When Angels Cry
by Llewellwyn Mephistopheles III
Summary: In their latest peril filled adventure the boys come across the Weeping Angels
1. Prologue

March 3, 2011

Rain fell onto the once palatial manor. Statuesque angels scattered across the sprawling grounds hid their faces from the downpour with protective hands. Once elegant in its prime, the large house now stood a decrepit reminder of times past. For the most part it languished in silence on the outskirts of a small town just north of Seattle. But on that particular Saturday, the heavy silence was broken suddenly by a cry of laughter. The squeak of rusted hinges betrayed the presence of two trespassing teenage boys as they pried the front door open. They stumbled inside, shaking water from their coats. Their laughter slowly died as they took in the dusty and dilapidated foyer. Faking bravado, the older of the two boys took a couple more steps in and spun around to face the other, a strained smile plastered on his face.

"Come on Jimmy! Staying in here for an hour? That's the easiest 50 bucks ever." The older boy said.

"I guess," Jimmy replied. His smile was unconvincing.

"Don't be such a pussy. There is no such thing as ghosts, man. Matt only told you that to scare you out of 50 bucks." The older boy threw his words over his shoulder as he began to walk further into the house.

"But… Brian? Where are you? Brian, this isn't funny…" Jimmy looked around anxiously, a mere 50 dollars suddenly seeming far too low a price for spending time in such a creepy old house. A floor board creaked down the hall. Jimmy jumped and spun towards the noise, squinting as he tried to see into the darkness.

"Boo!" Brian bellowed, pouncing from a nearby doorway, inspiring a near pants-wetting fear in Jimmy.

"That was _not_ funny, you dick!" Jimmy said. He took a wild swing for Brian's head and the older teen easily dodged it.

"Yeah it was, you big baby," Brian replied with an easy laugh.

Jimmy soon found himself alone once more as Brian moved off to explore more of the house. Partially out of a need to get his breathing under control and partially out of an effort to show that he was not afraid, Jimmy remained rooted where he was. As his breath calmed down he slowly realized that he could no longer hear the rhythmic creaks and thuds that denoted Brian's exploration of the house.

"Brian?" The silence seemed to swallow Jimmy's voice. He desperately hoped Brian was just playing another trick, but the older teen didn't answer. Jimmy took a step forward, reluctantly uprooting himself to search for his friend. Wandering in the direction that he had last seen Brian, Jimmy called again.

"Brian? Come on, man, this really isn't funny." Still no answer came. Jimmy ventured further into the caverns of the dark house. "You got me, haha. Come on out now." Jimmy's pleas died on his lips as he entered what was once the dining room. A large table sat cracked into pieces and a solitary angel stood in the center of the wreckage. Jimmy recognized the angel from the weeping statues outside. Terrified beyond any thought of winning 50 dollars, he backed slowly out of the room. He dared not take his eyes off the angel. As horrible as it was to look at the angle, something told him it would be worse to turn away. He backed up, his shoulder hitting the wall on the opposite side of the hall. Frozen for a moment, he came to a decision. Jimmy broke eye contact and sprinted to the front door.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Slight AU, Cas is not God (nor does he have a God complex), Sam has a soul, and Dean is his usual chipper (haha, yeah right) self. **

March 11, 2011

A rare gleam of sun greeted the boys as the Impala pulled up to the decaying house. In their usual mindless synchronicity Sam and Dean swung the doors open and climbed out. The brothers paused for a moment, surveying their target house. They moved to the trunk to collect the necessary hunting equipment.

Dean pulled open the creaky front door and strode into the dusty and dark interior of the manor. By rote both boys reached for flashlights and flicked them on, flicking the beams from one object to the next. Sam's flashlight moved over barren walls with faded, peeling wallpaper. Haphazardly scattered through the rooms were old pieces of broken furniture, their faded upholstery covered in moth-eaten cloths. Seeing nothing of interest, Sam followed his brother into the next room. They passed from room to room in silence until they came across what must have once been a dining room. Amongst the splintered wreckage of a heavy wood dining table a lone statue of an angel stood. It was hunched over it hands, weeping.

"Somebody needs a happy meal," Dean said.

Ignoring Dean's wisecrack, Sam continued past his brother, scanning the room for anything else unusual. He circled the room, peering out the boarded up windows. In the grounds outside, more weeping angels stood. Sam turned away and rejoined his brother. Dean was hunched over their duffel pulling out shotguns and extra salt, just to be safe.

Sam stood patiently, his back to the weeping figure in of the center of the room. He continued to flick his flashlight around the room, curious at the old architecture. Having found what he was searching for, Dean stood and shouldered the duffel. Sam raised his flashlight, shining it in the direction they had just come from. Lurking just down the hall was another weeping angel statue. Sam's brows knitted in confusion—he was sure the hallway had been empty before.

"Um, Dean? Was that statue there before?" Sam asked, his eyes not leaving the angel.

"Of course it was Sam. Statues don't move themselves." Dean was busy looking down another hallway, away from Sam.

"I'm pretty sure that statue wasn't there when we came in."

"Don't be such a girl Sam, the statue isn't going to get you. Here, make yourself useful. Hold this."

Sam glanced down to grab the salt Dean was holding out to him. As Sam reaffixed his gaze to the angel in the hall, he was sure it had moved closer.

"Dean, listen to me. I'm positive it moved. It was in the hall just a second ago and now it's in the doorway!"

"Sam. Statues don't mo…" Dean's reprimand fell short as he turned to confront his brother. Over Sam's right shoulder, claws and fangs mere inches from his neck, an angel statue loomed. "I believe you now."

"What do we do now? How the hell do we fight statues?" Sam asked. Dean remained mute, refusing to let his gaze wander from the statue. A soft fluttering of wings cut through the thick silence. For a moment, Dean expected to see the statue flying at him on great, stony wings. Instead, he was greeted by the familiar sight of Castiel. Without giving the boys time to argue, Cas touched their foreheads and winged them to safety.


	3. Chapter 2

ENGLAND

A stiff breeze tore across the sandy beach. It seized the Doctor's coat tails as he stepped out of the TARDIS, the material straining as it struggled to break free. Seeing no immediate danger, the Doctor turned and held the door open for Rose. His blond assistant bounded out of the TARDIS, ready for any adventure.

"So, where are we?" Rose asked anxiously. Her eyes eagerly scanned the ocean before her.

"Somewhere a little more familiar than our usual haunts," he answered cryptically. "A while back you said you'd never been, so I thought 'why not'?" The Doctor grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Before them towered the white cliffs of Dover, glistening in all their glory.

"The white cliffs of Dover?" Rose deadpanned. She was severely lacking the enthusiasm the Doctor had been hoping for. "All of space and time and you take me to Dover? Not even Egypt or India, but Dover?"

The Doctor peered at her. "Well, yes. We were nearby so I thought we just pop in…" The Time Lord's sentence trailed off as he caught sight of three men in the distance. A moment ago, the horizon had been empty, the cliffs stretching off into the distance. The three figures had appeared without warning, no more than a short distance away. "Now that I wasn't expecting," the Doctor muttered. Interest piqued, he moved to intercept the men, leaving Rose to trail after him.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor!" the Doctor announced. He wore his best grin, enthusiasm shining in his eyes. "Who are you?" He peered at the three men. They were a tall lot. One was exceptionally tall, a lingering trace of fear visible in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder repeatedly. The second tallest looked furious, his green eyes watching the unnaturally tall one with something akin to worry and familial protectiveness. The third stood stock still, hands abandoned at his sides as if he didn't know what to do with them. The blank face and remarkable blue eyes suddenly struck a chord of remembrance within the Doctor. "Oh, wait! Are you…yes…no. But yes! You are! Brilliant! Castiel, long time no see. Well, longer for you really. When was it we last met—1020 or there about?"

"It was the year 1018. Doctor, this is Sam and Dean Winchester," the angel replied. He gestured at each of the men in turn. "They require your… expertise." Without further ado and with a rustle of invisible feathers, Castiel disappeared into the ether.

"Somebody better tell me what the hell's going on or I swear I'll start throwing punches," Dean growled.

Sam waved a hand in his brother's direction. "Dean, calm down." He turned to the Doctor and Rose. "Hi. I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean. Castiel called you the 'Doctor'? Who are you? Can you help us?"

"I'm the Doctor. This is my assistant Rose."

Dean's eyes alighted upon the curvaceous figure of Rose and all traces of irritation vanished. He swaggered up to her confidently.

"Rose, I'm Dean." He proffered a hand.

"Delighted," Rose answered. Handsomer than the average male she encountered, Rose allowed Dean to continue.

"So, a doctor's assistant, huh? Does that make you a nurse?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What if I am? Will you behave yourself or do you need to be restrained?"

Dean flashed her a winning smile and opened his mouth to retort.

"Dean! Come on!" Sam was already in the process of jogging after the doctor, who was high tailing it across the rocks to a blue phone booth. Idly, Dean wondered what a phone booth was doing in…wherever the hell they were. Seeing Rose's blond figure bobbing ahead of them, Dean paused to admire her as she walked away. It certainly was a nice sight.

"Dean, today please."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Samantha. I'm coming." He caught up to his brother just in time to Rose and the Doctor disappear inside the weird blue phone booth—which Dean could now see read 'Public Police Call Box'. Whatever that meant.

Sam was obviously excited. He was pacing small circles, a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Dean, you have no idea what the Doctor just told me. It's unlike anything we've ever encountered before. It's amazing!"

"Out with it, dude. What?"

"Those angel statues we saw? They really were moving!"

"Sam…"

"No, no. Just listen. The Doctor knew all about them. He called them the Weeping Angels. See, they're quantum locked so whenever someone looks at them, they're frozen. It's the best disguise I've ever seen. And when you're not looking, they can move faster than, well, not faster than the speed of sound. Then they'd have to move like 340 meters per second—"

"Enough with the science lesson, Bill Nye. Move on. How do we kill the sons of bitches?"

"Uh, I didn't get that far. Once the Doctor heard what we'd encountered, he kind of… ran away."

"Okay… so bring your nerdy buddy out here and we'll figure out how to kill them ourselves and send the good Doctor packing."

"No, Dean. We need the Doctor's help on this one."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, we don't."

"These things can move faster than we can blink, Dean. We're in way over our heads here. We can use the extra help."

"Sam…"

The door to the Police Box opened and Rose's face appeared. "If you gentlemen are done arguing, we're ready to go."

Dean peered at her. "Go where exactly, sweetheart? In case you haven't noticed, you're standing in a phone booth."

"It's not a phone booth. It's a TARDIS."

"A what?"

"Think of it like a spaceship, Dean." Sam pushed his brother toward the doors. "Come on."

"Spaceship, huh? Does it time travel too?"

"Yes," both Sam and Rose answered in unison.

"Of course it does," Dean deadpanned. "And I'm not going in there. Time travel and me—we don't mix. It's like Cas' teleportation. Bad mojo."

"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes skyward. "What else are you going to do? In case you haven't noticed, we're at the White Cliffs of Dover. The Impala's kind of far away."

"White Cliffs of Dover… as in England?"

"I'm impressed," Rose smirked.

"Bite me."

Rose's grin turned lascivious and she made a show of licking her lips.

Sam intervened before Dean could respond and effectively ruined the moment. "Dean, get in the TARDIS."

"Shut your pie hole, Sam. No way I'm getting in the box of death."

"Oi!" Rose yelled, all traces of playfulness gone. "It's a TARDIS, not a box of death!"

"Doesn't matter," Dean dismissed. "I'm not going in there." He turned away from Rose and Sam to look off into the distance. "My baby is so far away…"

"Gentlemen!" The Doctor suddenly appeared outside the TARDIS. "We must leave now. Expediency is key. Mr. Winchester—yes, you—I believe you'll find your Impala parked in the garage inside."

Dean eyed the Doctor warily, half torn between stark disbelief and various protective urges. He settled for disbelief. He looked around, seeing that no, the Police Call Box was still the same size it always had been. "My Impala is parked inside your phone booth? Dude, they want you back on the set of _Cuckoo's Nest_."

"Take two turns to the left, a right at the ballroom and go straight past the aquarium."

Dean looked at the Doctor as if he had Tarflaxian Slime Eels crawling out of his ears. "You're serious?"

"In here!" The Doctor's shout came from far, far away.

"It's bigger on the inside," Rose grinned.

"Kinky." Dean tentatively stepped inside the TARDIS, promise of seeing his beloved Impala calming his apprehension. The doors closed behind him and the motley trio left the White Cliffs of Dover behind.


End file.
